


Little Wonders

by batpan



Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: AU, Age Reversal, Damian is the oldest, Dick is the youngest, M/M, Slow Burn, age reversal au, kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:12:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5895916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batpan/pseuds/batpan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Age Reversal AU:</p><p>Dick's got a crush that's obvious to everyone but the one person that matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea was inspired by a prompt from a very lovely anon on tumblr! They requested an age reverse au for JayDick, where "Dick develops a crush on his youngest older brother but Jason is oblivious."  
> I loved this prompt so much, I've decided to make it not just a one-shot like I usually do for prompts, but a multi chapter. I've been messing around and rewriting this for a couple weeks now, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it, but I at least know where I'm going with it! So yeah, comments and kudos are always appreciated! I love hearing what you guys think!
> 
> ALSO, as for ages, here's how old they are in this chapter:
> 
> Dick: 9  
> Jason: 12  
> Tim: 16  
> Damian: 20
> 
> They'll get aged up as we go along, so this will change next chapter, but this is just so you know!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revised as of 1/5/2017

Dick doesn’t particularly like being left alone. He doesn’t like sitting alone, with nothing but his own thoughts, and the wat that every time he closes his eyes, the snap of frayed ropes breaking thunders repeatedly through his head. He is alone now, with dark thoughts creeping their way through his mind, and he _hates_ it.

Dick tugs his legs up, curling his body into a tight ball. The sheets rustle with the movement, the sound much louder than it should be in the quiet of the large room. It’s late, and he should be sleeping, but tonight sleep just won’t reach him.

He’s been living at the manor for two weeks now, and even though he’s finally begun to settle in his new home, it doesn’t _feel_ like home. When he thinks of home, he thinks of the circus, and his parents’ reassuring presence. He thinks of all kinds of affection, from all sorts of different people. He thinks of the awestruck crowds cheering, and a particular elephant that was always there when he needed comfort.

The manor is nice, and so are its inhabitants, but… it isn’t _home_.

Memories flood his thoughts now, bringing a soft smile to his lips. Until the images distort, and are replaced with a face, the face of the man responsible for his mother and father’s deaths.

Dick sits up, throwing the covers off before he slips from the bed.

He can’t lie there a moment longer, fighting his mind for sleep. He is restless, and he has to do something about it. Not just anything, though.

Dick needs to stop the dark thoughts plaguing his mind, _he needs justice_.

 

***

 

The streets are livelier than one would expect for it being so late. It’s dangerous being out here by himself, but Dick is certain he can handle himself. He’s fast, and besides, the only trouble he’s looking for is Tony Zucco.

It’d been too easy to sneak out of the manor. The hallway lights had been on, but there hadn’t been another sign of life, not even Alfred.

Dick really didn’t expect to see anyone running about. Bruce is hardly ever around, and all the other kids that live there always seem busy. Damian is grumpy, and prefers to be alone, Tim is always out with his friends, and Jason… well, Dick isn’t sure what to make of him yet. Dick wants to befriend him, as they were the closest in age, but Jason also seems to keep to himself.

“Hey, kid!”

Startled, Dick whips around at the sound of the voice. He is shocked to find Robin, the Batman’s sidekick.

“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself–” The boy wonder begins, as he makes his way over, but stops, staring at Dick’s face. Or at least, Dick _thinks_ he’s staring. It’s hard to tell with the mask’s lenses covering his eyes.

“What?” Dick finally asks, after the silence has dragged on for too long.

Robin straightens up, mask scrunching in what looks to be a glare. “What are you doing out on the streets?”

“None of your business!” Dick snaps, shoving his hands in his pockets and moving to turn. Instantly he’s pulled back by the grip of a green, gloved hand on his arm.

“Di-kid. You really shouldn’t be out here on your own,” Robin insists.

Dick frowns. “You don’t look much older than me. Stop calling me kid.”

Robin sighs, clearly starting to grow aggravated. “Seriously, ki–” He stops himself, taking a deep breath. “What are you doing out here?”

Dick doesn’t understand why Robin is wasting his time on him, he hasn’t done anything wrong. Hasn’t even called attention to himself, _yet_.

“I’m not causing any trouble! Why don’t you just leave me alone?” He asks, voicing his thoughts.

“I’m just looking out for you!” Robin insists, albeit impatiently. “Gotham’s streets are no place for a kid. Let me walk you home.”

Dick frowns again, looking away from the young hero. “I don’t have a home,” he mumbles, thoughts going straight to his parents and the _reason_ that he’s out here in the first place.

“You’re dressed way too nicely, and look too well fed to be living on the streets. I know you’ve got a home,” Robin says, scrutinizing him with his masked eyes.

“My parents were murdered.” The words fly out of his mouth in reply, causing his eyes to widen in realization of what he’d said. His shoulders slump, and he looks anywhere but at Robin. _What a mess._

“I… uh. I’m… sorry.” Robin mumbles, awkwardly. Dick glances up at him, noticing that Robin doesn’t look at all surprised by what he said. Anyone else would have been startled by the revelation, but Robin clearly isn’t…

“You don’t seem surprised,” Dick points out.

Robin freezes, straightening up as if he’s been caught. “What- I… uh… uh…”

Dick cocks his head to the side, studying Robin with a newfound curiosity.

“Have we met before?” Dick asks, finding something _familiar_ about the older boy.

Robin’s mask stretches, a sign of his eyes widening. “What!? No! Never!” He shouts hurriedly.

Dick shrugs. “I don’t know… I feel like we have. Not sure _why_ , but…” he trails off, trying to figure out how or where he could have possibly met Batman’s sidekick before.

Robin’s face scrunches up into a glare now. “Well, we haven’t!” He snaps.

“Sorry, sorry,” Dick says, a smile tugging at his lips. Robin is obviously flustered and there is something almost _endearing_ , about it. “Hm, well, I better get going,” Dick pipes up, taking advantage of the situation. He takes a step away and turns, intent on heading back down the street. He isn’t exactly sure what he’s going to do when he finds Zucco, he just knows he needs to _find_ him.

“Hey! Woah! Hold it!” Robin shouts, running to catch up. He stops in front of Dick, with his hands held out to stop him. “Where are you going?”

Dick sighs.

 Apparently, Robin is just as stubborn as he is.

“I’m looking for someone,” He says, deciding to just be honest. Maybe it will get him somewhere. _Maybe_.

“Who?” Robin asks, keeping his body poised for action, as if Dick is going to make a run for it.

“The man who killed my parents,” Dick says, small hands clenching into fists, as anger wells up inside of him.

“Woah,” Robin’s mask stretches again, the white lenses widening. “I don’t- that’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” Dick demands, impatiently. He needs to go, before it’s too late!

“Oh, I don’t know,” Robin says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe because you’ll probably get killed!” He snaps, as his arms flail dramatically.

Dick’s fists tighten, knuckles going white. “Get out of my way!” He shouts.

“I can’t do that, kid. I can’t let you get yourself into any trouble.” Robin says, mouth turned down in a frown.

Dick’s fingers ache from how tightly he has them clenched. He needs Robin out of the way. He can’t let Zucco get away with it what he did… he can’t let this murderer go unpunished.

“You don’t understand!” Dick shouts, unable to hold his frustration in a moment longer. “You don’t–” the words are cut off by a strangled sob, and suddenly tears are streaming down his face, blurring Robin’s figure in front of him.

A pair of arms wrap hesitantly around him, pulling him close. He presses his face up against a warm chest, salty tears staining the material of his shirt. Dick’s fists loosen, and reach up, clutching at loose fabric, probably Robin’s cape.

“Hey,” The young hero says voice soft. “It’s… it’s OK.”

Dick shakes his head, forehead rubbing against Robin’s chest. Robin’s arms tighten around him, and Dick is so grateful for the contact. This isn’t how thought his night would go, but he needs this. He’s been _craving_ it, for what seems like so long now.

A hand runs up and down his back slowly, the motion soothing. Dick buries his face against Robin, inhaling the hero’s scent which was… interesting.   
He smells like sweat and something he can’t quite put a name to. It’s likely whatever material his uniform is made of. The scent is oddly comforting, though.

“Robin!”

The sudden and gruff voice shocks them both, and Robin’s arms snap away from Dick, and he jumps away. Dick turns slowly, stopping once a tall, dark silhouette comes into view.

“What’s going–” Batman stops speaking, as his eyes train on Dick.

Dick freezes under the heavy gaze, an unsettling feeling churning in his gut. A moment later, Batman’s head snaps in Robin’s direction, white lensed eyes narrowing.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He growls out.

Robin frowns, shoulders slumping. “I don’t know. I thought I could handle it.”

Batman shakes his head, letting out a sigh. “We’ll talk later. For now… I think it’s time to go home,” he says, voice still holding that same authoritative tone, but somehow softer.

Out of nowhere, the batmobile screeches down the street, halting to a stop just a few feet away from Batman. Dick stares at the vehicle with wide eyes. The doors open up automatically, and Batman gestures towards it. “Get in,” he orders.

Robin moves from behind him, hopping into the passenger’s seat. Dick watches, feeling a bit awkward and uncomfortable, with tear streaks now drying on his face.

“You too,” Batman commands, and Dick’s eyes widen once again.

“What?” he asks, shocked.

“You heard me. Get in the car.”

Dick thinks about making a run for it, but this is _Batman_. Dick’s fast, but somehow he just knows that Batman won’t let him get away.

Hesitantly, he walks towards the sleek black car. He looks at it for a moment, takes a glance at Batman, w _ho is watching him_ , and hops in the back without a word.

Once he’s settled, Batman climbs in, and the doors shut. Any chance of escape gone. They take off a moment later, with the batmobile winding through the streets, and Dick begins to wonder _where_ they’re going.

“Isn’t this like, kidnapping?” he asks, speaking up for the first time during the drive.

He isn’t sure what he’s expecting as a response, but it _definitely_ isn’t Batman _chuckling_.

“Not in this case,” Batman says, voice no longer a growl, and Dick swears he’s heard that voice somewhere before.

The batmobile comes to a stop, and the doors open. Dick glances around, eyes widening at what he sees. They’re in the Batcave! He looks around at all the strange things, eyes lit up. His gaze lands on Batman, finally and— whoa.

“Bruce!?”

 

***

 

Hugging, and trying to comfort Dick the night he found out about the family’s secret, is probably one of the worst decisions Jason has ever made.

Okay, that’s definitely an exaggeration, but _hell_. It was like a dam had broken in the kid, and suddenly there was a flood of affection. He’s constantly touching Jason now, touching _everyone_. Dick has only been with them a month now, and in the short time span, it’s become common to see Damian giving the kid piggyback rides.

_Damian._ The guy who’d been trained as an assassin when he was even younger than Dick!

The effect that Dick seems to have on him is actually a little unsettling, and Damian isn’t the only one. Dick has both Tim and Bruce wrapped around his little fingers. Tim thinks Dick is just _adorable._ Or something.

And Bruce… well… it’s just _weird._ Bruce is one of the least affectionate people Jason knows. He has his moments, and he definitely _cares_ about people, but watching Dick constantly crawl up into the man’s lap and Bruce just _letting him_ without a thought, it’s…weird. No other way to describe it.

Jason isn’t mad, or anything like that. Dick’s just landed into their lives and slipped in as if he’s always been here, as if he’s _meant_ to be here with them all. Which is fine, Jason has no problem with it. But things are definitely different now. Not a bad different, necessarily, but he _is_ a bit worried about his current place as Robin.

Technically, Tim is the official Robin, but as he’s begun to spend more and more of his time with the Titans, Jason has slipped into the role beside Bruce in Gotham. And Jason absolutely _loves_ being Robin. It makes him feel special and important, and gives him a real purpose in life.

Bruce has begun to train Dick alongside him, and Jason can’t help but fear that he might be replaced. Dick is good, like, _incredibly_ good. He has natural talent, and his knowledge in acrobats gives him a bit of an upper hand. Jason is loath to admit his jealousy. He’s worked hard to be Robin, and it’s just so effortless for Dick!

Yet, while Jason lies awake some night, in fear of the possibility of losing one of the only things that’s ever really mattered to him, he still can’t bring himself to dislike Dick. It’s impossible to dislike the kid, really. He’s too full of energy, too affectionate, and too kind to not like. And it’s surprising, really, to know that he’s the way he is, considering what he’s gone through.

They’d all been there, the night that Dick’s parents died. Bruce was being honored for one thing or another (Jason doesn’t bother trying to keep track of what Bruce was involved in outside of Batman business), so he’d dragged the whole family along for the show. It definitely was one of the better events Jason had been forced into going to, after all, who didn’t like the circus? Except, no one had expected that it would end in such a tragedy. And as the crowd shouted and gasped in horror, at the sight of the two lifeless trapeze artists lying on the ground, Bruce’s eyes were trained on the little boy who’d just lost his parents. Jason, Tim, and Damian had all known, right away, from the look in his eyes, that they’d be welcoming another lost boy to their odd little family.

Jason isn’t as against the idea as he had been at first, he’s ended up even liking Dick, at least a little. He doesn’t even mind all of the affection, even if it was beginning to cross the border of absolutely ridiculous. Unexpected hugs, cuddling while watching movies, hell, Dick had crawled into Jason’s bed a few times.

It’s strange, but Jason isn’t as opposed to the idea as he originally had thought. The kid may have opened up, and seemed much happier than when he first got here, but he’s still been through some rough shit, so Jason is fine with helping him through it, in whatever way that he can. For now, anyway... the kid was bound to move on eventually, right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason's got Dick's back, and later, Dick's got Bruce's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my favorite thing about writing this, is that Dick is the youngest, and therefore has older brothers to look out for him. I just. I love it.
> 
> OK so ages for this chapter:
> 
> Dick: 12  
> Jason: 15  
> Tim: 19  
> Damian: 23
> 
> Revised as of 1/5/2017

It started out small, with just little jabs and taunts here and there. Not a big deal, really, sticks and stones, right? Except, the bullying progressively got worse. Picking on someone was no fun if there was no reaction, apparently, and the less Dick reacted to his tormentors, the harsher they became.

Dick sighs, rubbing at what was sure to form a bruise on his face. He wishes he had a mirror to look into, hopes the damage doesn’t look as bad as it feels. He doesn’t care about the bruises, or even that these rich punks are constantly messing with him to begin with. What really frustrates him to no end, is that he _knows_ he can take them all down. Bruce has trained him to go up against _criminals_ , a couple of school kids would be a cinch.

He has to hold back though. His skill level would raise questions, and even if he isn’t the _official_ Robin, it could still risk linking Bruce to Batman.

Besides, Dick fighting back would reflect badly on Bruce either way, which is something he _really_ doesn’t feel like dealing with the consequences of. He can continue to take a few hits, they’ll get bored eventually.

Dick makes his way out of the school, moving a bit faster when he catches sight of Jason. The older boy is standing in their usual spot, backpack slung over one shoulder and hands shoved into his front pant pockets, waiting for Alfred to pick them up.

The grin on Dick’s face as he sidles up next to him is automatic. “Hey.”

Jason sighs in annoyance, making Dick’s grin stretch further. Jason always seems to be annoyed with Dick’s presence, but Dick _knows_ it’s an act.

Jason opens his mouth, probably to tell Dick to scram, but then his eyes land on Dick’s face, and they widen, before quickly narrowing into a scowl instead.

“The hell happened to your face?” he asks, going as far as to grab Dick’s chin to force his face to the side to get a better look. “Who the fuck did this to you?” he demands, nostrils flaring angrily. _Uh oh_.

Dick swats him away, giving an easy laugh. “No one! I’m fine, I collided with someone while going a little too hard in P.E.,” he says, the lie easily flying from between his lips.

Jason stares at him for a moment, still looking suspicious, but then he looks away. “Be careful, you idiot.”

Dick grins again, the small sentiment making the butterflies in his stomach go wild. _See? Jason_ does _care!_

***

A cry flies from Dick’s throat before he can even think to hold it back. The noise startles Jason, forcing him up and off of Dick.

“Shit! Sorry, I didn’t think I shoved you that hard,” he says hurriedly, concern written all over his face, making Dick’s chest swell.

He winces, quickly covering it up with a smile as Jason helps him up. “I’m fine!” Dick assures him, even as his back throbs painfully from a line of bruising that probably just got a lot worse. Its Dick’s own fault though, he should have thought of the damage on his person before agreeing to some sparring.

How the hell is he supposed to say no to Jason, though?

Jason frowns at him, the look in his eyes unreadable as he looks Dick over, searching for something that isn’t obviously apparent.

“Seriously Jay, I’m fine!” Dick says, convincingly.

“Let me see your back.”

Dick startles. “Wh-what?” he stammers out. Apparently, he isn’t as convincing as he hoped.

“Take your shirt off.”

Dick forces out a chuckle, holding his hands out in front of him. “Woah, Jay–”

“Dick!”

The shout leaves Dick’s ears ringing, and forces his smile to fall from his face. Jason’s angry and _serious._

Dick deflates, shoulders slumping. “Leave it alone.”

He watches Jason’s hands ball up into fists, as his teeth clench tightly together. “No, Dick. I have been ‘leaving it alone’, but you keep showing up with bruises and scratches. I’m done. Tell me who the fuck is bullying you, or I’m skipping classes to follow you around tomorrow.”

Dick’s eyes widen at the threat. “No! You can’t, Jay, I’m fine–”

“Stop!” He shouts, grabbing Dick’s wrists. His grip is tight at first, but loosens immediately. “Look, I went through the same thing. Those stuck up rich pricks are a pain in the ass. God forbid you aren’t _born_ into money… if you’re worried about fighting them, I’ll do it for you.”

Dick shakes his head. “I don’t want you to fight them, Jay. I can take them, I just–”

“It’d make you look bad, right? I know you can take them too, and if you’re worried about what Bruce will think, screw him. He doesn’t get it.”

“Can we please just forget it, Jason?” Dick practically begs. “They’ll get bored eventually.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean they should get away with any of it.”

***

Dick spots the bullies instantly upon exiting his classroom. His idea of ducking away unseen dies as soon as he makes eye contact with their leader. He sighs, physically and mentally preparing himself for whatever they decide to deal out to him today.

“Hey, Grayson!” The leader calls out, an evil smirk on his face, and a glint in his eyes that can only mean trouble.

Dick faces them, shooting them his best unimpressed look. Because, really, this was getting ridiculous. “Don’t you have anything better to do than pick on me? I mean, it’s gotta be getting pretty boring by now.”

The older boy glares at him, like he always does. They don’t like when Dick gets mouthy. And _boy_ can Dick get mouthy.  
It’s likely the number one reason they refuse leave him alone.

“Why don’t we take this outside?” It’s made to sound like Dick has an option, but Dick has gone up against these punks enough by now to know that he does not, in fact, have any say in the matter.

Reinforcing the fact that there’s no other choice, the other two bullies grab Dick by his jacket, flanking him on each side. They move to drag him towards the nearest exit, but are abruptly interrupted.

“Hey!” a familiar voice calls out, forcing them all to turn.

Jason Todd stands only a few feet away, looking pissed and incredibly out of breath… _had he ran all the way over here?_

“Let him go,” Jason commands, giving the bullies a glare that he’d once told Dick he perfected back when he was still on the streets. It’s the kind of glare that let people know he meant business, and that they’d better not mess with him.

It works, too, Dick learns first hand, as he can practically _feel_ the fear and tension radiating off of his tormentors.

“Back off, Todd! This has nothing to do with you!” the leader shouts through gritted teeth.

“Nothing to do with me? That’s my little brother you punks have your hands on. If you think I’m not involving myself, you’re a hell of a lot dumber than you look. Now, before I start throwing my fists around, you better unhand Dick.”

The leader scoffs with false bravado. “You’re outnumbered, Todd.”

Jason smirks, tilting his head. “I was outnumbered when I kicked your ass all those years ago too, you sure you want to find out just how much stronger I’ve gotten since then?”

“I- I’m not afraid of you, Todd!”

As Jason stalks towards the boy, Dick knows this guy has made a big mistake.

 

Today, Alfred is the one waiting for Dick and Jason, instead of the other way around.

As the two boys approach the car, the butler looks them up and down, expression closed off. Dick has no idea what the man is thinking, and that only makes him more anxious.

They’re both a sight for sore eyes. Dick has another bruise forming across his cheek, a split lip, and his school uniform is beyond disheveled. Jason looks worse for wear, with knuckles that were already starting to bruise, a blackening eye, a gash on his cheek, and a ripped sleeve.

Alfred raises his brow at the duo, which is the first sign of emotion that Dick’s been able to catch. Jason grins at the older man, his teeth bloodied from his own split lip. Dick is surprised that instead of scolding him, Alfred smiles back as he opens the back door of the car for them, then ushers them inside.

“I trust that Master Dick won’t be having any more problems in the near future, correct, Master Jason?” Alfred speaks up suddenly, during the drive to the manor.

Dick gapes.

“Don’t think so, Alfie. If those pricks know what’s good for ‘em…”

Dick sees Alfred raise an eyebrow at Jason’s poor choice of language, as he glances at them from the rearview mirror, but says nothing else.

After a few minutes of silence passes them by once more, Dick turns to Jason, who is staring out the window.

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft.

Jason turns to look at him, and Dick winces at the sight of his eye. Yeah… definitely going to be black and blue.

“Thank you.”

Jason smiles, causing his lip to start bleeding once again. He doesn’t seem to mind, though.

“Anytime, little bro.”

Dick smiles as Jason ruffles his hair, while his insides go up in arms. _Little bro._ Right. Because they were supposed to be brothers…  
Dick isn’t so sure he likes that, isn’t sure he’s ever really liked it… It just didn’t sound or feel _right_.

***

 

_Too late, he couldn’t- there was nothing he could do… not enough time… the ropes couldn’t hold out much longer-_

_CRACK!_

Dick jolts upright in bed, as chest heaves. He clutches at his blankets, looking around the room with wide eyes. Recognition finally sets in, and he calms slightly.

It was just a dream… but it _wasn’t_.

The dreams aren’t as frequent as they’d been when he first came to the manor, but every time he does dream about the night his parents died, it hits him hard.

Light flashes suddenly, briefly illuminating the dark room. A loud crack of thunder rumbles a second later, causing Dick to startle again.   
He isn’t sure if he should be grateful or not for the storm. It woke him up from his nightmare, but it could very well have triggered it to begin with.

Lightning flashes again, followed by another boom of thunder. Dick is _shaking_ and it’s stupid, and probably pathetic of him, but his decision is made.

He throws the covers off and slides off the mattress, grabbing a throw blanket from the end of the bed and tugging it over his shoulders, wearing it like a cape. He exits his bedroom like that, and heads straight for the room next door.

He pauses, considers knocking, but ends up just pushing the door open as another roar of thunder practically shakes the entire manor. Not surprisingly, the light in the room is still on.

“Storm freak you out?” Jason asks, without looking up from the book in his hands.

“Nightmare,” Dick is quick to correct, even though it was really both. This is probably a dumb idea, and he needs to make this be the least amount of lame as he possibly can.

Jason looks at him then, one hand dropping from his book to pull the covers back from the bed in invitation. Dick climbs up beside him gratefully.

“Uh. Do you… wanna talk about it?” Jason asks, clearly uncomfortable.

Dick shoots him a small, grateful smile. “No… I just don’t want to be alone,” he admits, saving Jason the pain of trying to comfort Dick more than he already is.

“You can stay here tonight,” Jason says, voice quiet.

“Thanks, Jay.”

Jason gives him a quick nod, then reaches over top of him to set his book on the bedside table and flick the light off.

Thunder rumbles again, but the sound is beginning to fade, and Dick feels better with Jason there, anyway.

“Try to get some sleep, Dickie,” Jason mumbles tiredly, sliding down into the covers.

Dick sighs contentedly, scooting closer into Jason’s side, fully prepared for the older boy to shove him away, but he doesn’t. In fact, Jason’s arm slides over Dick’s waist, tugging him in close.

Dick smiles into the darkness, feeling nothing but absolute safety, before closing his eyes and drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

***

“I’m worried,” Dick announces, pulling his legs up to the seat and circling his arms around them, hugging himself tight.

“Tt.” Damian scoffs from the driver’s seat, shaking his head.

“Dami this is serious!” Dick whines.

“You should be grateful for the opportunity to patrol,” Damian counters, and Dick knows that he’s scowling from behind that cowl, even if it was hard to tell within the darkness of the car.

“But, he could get into trouble! Or get hurt!” Dick exclaims, waving his arms around as much as the confines of the car will allow him.

Damian sighs, casting a brief glance over at him before focusing his eyes back on the road ahead. “Father trained Todd the same as he trained the rest of us, he can handle himself,” he tries to assure him.

Dick frowns anyways, turning to look out the window at the city that was blurring by. “I know, but–”

“Besides,” Damian cuts him off. “Father is going after him, and he will bring him back. The only thing you need to worry about it is the mood that Father will likely bring back.”

Jason had found out that his mom, his _real_ mom, was alive, and in trouble. Jason took off, and flew all the way over to Ethiopia, of all places. _He hadn’t even said goodbye._

“Sirs,” Alfred’s voice cuts in, a moment later on the coms. “There’s a break in at a jewelry store downtown, I’m sending you the coordinates now.”

“Got it,” Damian replies, automatically switching gears.

Before hitting the gas, he removes a hand from the wheel to pat Dick on the arm. “It will be OK, Grayson.”

Dick shoots him a small smile. “Thanks, Dami.”

“Tt,” is the reply he receives, before Damian really hits the gas, sending the batmobile flying through the streets.

***

It turns out to not be OK. Not OK at all.

Damian is right, Bruce _did_ bring Jason back, but not alive.

Dick, shocked from the news, refuses to believe it’s true, denying what is so clear right in front of him. He locked himself in his room, and everyone had left him alone for a while, until Alfred, who’s been putting up a very strong front himself, tried to coax him out, to at least eat something. He wasn’t hungry, and didn’t think he could stomach anything, anyway.

Alfred gives up eventually, and Dick feels a bit guilty, because he certainly isn’t the only one who’s in mourning.

Damian ends up breaking down the door and dragging Dick downstairs, rather forcefully. Once his nose is assaulted by the wonderful scent of Alfred’s cooking, his stomach growls, and OK… he may be a little hungry. But he’s still miserable, just like everyone else.

 

Bruce begins to get reckless. Damian, Alfred, and Tim had all talked about it in hushed voices, but Dick noticed his mentor’s behavior himself.

“I can try and work a little less with the Titans,” Tim offers aloud one morning, over breakfast. Ever since Jason’s death, both Tim and Damian have been hanging around the manor more often.

“He doesn’t even accept my help, Drake.” Damian snaps bitterly, before shoving a bite of pancake into his mouth.

“He _needs_ a robin,” Tim stresses, shaking his head.

“You _know_ he’s not going to put Dick out in the field, not after…” Damian trails off, before sighing. It’s true. Dick really hasn’t been up to it anyway, but Bruce flat out refused when Dick offered to go out on patrol with him. He’s been refusing Tim and Damian’s help as well, even though they each tended to do their own thing regardless.

Dick pushes away from the table, his chair scraping noisily against the hardwood floor. The older boys spare him a glance, but don’t say anything as he hops down and leaves the kitchen altogether.

He heads straight for the cave, where he knows Bruce will be. He’s doing what he always does when he’s upset; drowning himself in cases, and bat-related work.

Dick takes his time descending the stairs, and when the batcomputer comes into view, sure enough, Bruce is there, with files upon files surrounding him, physical forms along with a dozen open windows on the screen.

Bruce doesn’t acknowledge Dick’s presence, but Dick knows that he knows he is there. It’s pretty hard to sneak up on the bat, after all. Instead of speaking, or even greeting him, Dick steps right up to the older man, and crawls right up into his lap.

_That_ certainly takes him off guard. Bruce tenses up at first, but relaxes into it, even moving a couple of files out of the way. It’s been awhile since Dick has done something like this, but Bruce still didn’t say anything, just kind of goes along with it, as if Dick is nine again.

“You should get some sleep,” Dick speaks up suggestively, breaking the silence between them.

“Okay, _Alfred_.” Bruce quips gruffly.

Dick grins, leaning back to look up at him, happy to see a small smirk on his lips. “Have you even eaten anything?” Dick asks, forcing Bruce to meet his eyes.

“ _Did_ Alfred send you?” he asks, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Nope!” Dick says, making sure to really pop the ‘p’. “Aren’t I allowed to care about your well-being?”

A little smile graces Bruce’s lips in response, and it’s the first one Dick has seen in a long while. Too bad he’s probably going to ruin it.

Now or never…

“I think… I think you should let me be Robin.”

Bruce tenses up, his eyes narrowing instantly.

“No,” he uses the Batman voice, the word rolling off his tongue sharply, leaving no room for argument. It’s a tone that works well on criminals, but Dick knows better. He may sound and look intimidating, but Dick has seen the softer sides of Bruce, and knows the man would never even ponder the thought of treating Dick like a _criminal_.

Dick also cares about Bruce, which is why he forces himself to keep pressing the issue.

“I can handle it, Bruce,” Dick whispers, peering up at him.

“I said _no_ , Dick. That’s final,” he tells him firmly.

“You need a Robin,” Dick counters. “That’s what Tim said, and I agree.”

“Don’t listen to what Tim says,” Bruce grumbles, trying to turn his attention back to the case he was working on previously.

Dick wonders how much pushing it will take before Bruce actually makes Dick get off of him and go. Apparently, he’s willing to find out.

“You’re not being very careful out there. Everyone is worried about you, _I’m_ worried about you,” Dick murmurs, staring up at Bruce with wide, puppy-dog eyes. “I lost my parents, and Jason already. I don’t want to lose you too.”

“Dick…” Bruce sighs, moving his arm to pull him into an awkward half-hug. “I can’t… I can’t let you get hurt because of me, not like–”

“I’m _not_ Jason,” Dick cuts him off. “You know that.”

Dick doesn’t mean it in any sort of scathing way. God, he _loved_ Jason. But, there’s no denying how different they are, no matter how much Dick might have looked up to him.

Bruce’s arm tighten around him. “Dick...” He tries weakly, and Dick wants to grin, knowing that he’s close to cracking him.

“Let me be Robin, let me have your back,” Dick insists.

Bruce gives a tired sigh, rubbing at his face with his free hand. “You need more training.”

“I’ve been training with you for years, now.” Dick beams, reaching up to poke at Bruce’s face.

“Dick,” Bruce warns.

Dick laughs, then mockingly scolds the man right back. “Broooooose!” he taunts, knowing that he won.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Red Hood enters the game, proving to be quite the perplexing "villain".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated! Seriously, I love reading what you guys think! The commentary usually makes my days a little brighter!
> 
> Ages for this chapter:  
> Dick: 16  
> Jason: 19  
> Tim: 23  
> Damian: 27
> 
> Revised as of 1/5/2017

This is it. This is the end.

Dick tries to remain calm, tries to focus on all his training, and think of a logical solution to getting out, but there’s _nothing_. His mind is blank, he is _stuck,_ literally and figuratively.

The building is up in flames. It’s only a matter of minutes until the whole place goes _kaboom_. The bad guys all fled, and Batman is somewhere fighting Gotham’s newest vigilante/baddie, leaving Dick alone in his current predicament.

A beam came crashing down onto his leg, too heavy for him to push off by himself, especially with the angle he’s trapped at. Dick may be bendy, but not bendy enough to squirm his way to freedom.

Something explodes nearby, sending debris flying through the air, narrowly missing Dick. His chest swells with more panic, as he desperately tries to free himself. Even with the building shaking and seeming to move everything around, he can’t wiggle his way out. Each time he tries, he only manages to make the beam press down harder against his leg. He can’t tell if anything is broken, but nothing hurts too badly, so he assumes he’ll be alright, for now.

His com won’t work either, which is just _fantastic._ Batman has no real way of knowing where to find Dick, or even that Dick needs finding in the first place. For all Bruce knows, Dick has already escaped. He would try to shout, but the roar and crackle of flames is too loud, and the smoke irritates his throat. The whole situation is hopeless.

Right as he’s about to completely lose all hope, and accept his doomed fate, the beam is lifted from his leg, before crashing back down just an inch from Dick’s foot.

He stares up with wide eyes as a figure emerged from the smoke, a figure that is most definitely not Batman.

Before Dick can even think of forming any words, the figure—aforementioned vigilante that Dick _thought_ Batman was fighting—scoops him up into his incredibly muscular arms, and wisely runs from the rapidly collapsing building.

Dick grabs onto the man out of pure instinct. Usually he wouldn’t cling to the bad guy, but when said bad guy is rushing him out of a burning building, the last thing he wants is for the guy to drop him on top of the flames. Fighting in this circumstance would be suicidal.

The man tucks Dick in closer, shielding him from the flames as the pathway becomes narrower. Dick clutches at the lapels of his leather jacket, burying his face in the stranger’s chest, hoping to shield his uncovered face from the heat. The man’s arms tighten, and Dick feels oddly safe. Definitely strange, considering he is literally in the hands of the enemy.

“Robin!”

Dick pulls his face away at the familiar, gruff shout of his mentor. They’re on the roof now, which is actually quite alarming. The place is collapsing from the inside. It’s only a matter of time before the roof caves in as the support beams burn and fall down.

Before he can properly react, or even process what’s happening, he is shoved into Bruce’s arms.

“Can’t let another Robin be blown to bits,” The hooded man sneers, causing Bruce’s grip to tighten around him, and Dick can _feel_ the anger that comment causes.

The man retreats backwards, wisely putting space between himself and the wrath of the Batman.

The roof shakes violently, forcing Dick to shift in Bruce’s arms, his face pressing flat into the older man’s armored chest.

“Time to go!” Dick hears the stranger shout over the sounds of the crumbling building. He peeks his head away from where it is pressed up against the bat symbol to see the man retreating back once again. “Catch you later, old man!” he calls, giving a mocking salute, before he drops off of the edge of building.

Bruce is tense, and Dick knows he wants to go after the man, but he clutches Dick a little bit tighter, before shooting a line out and getting them away from the burning building.

 

Alfred is at the ready as Bruce zips into the cave, med table and supplies all set up. Dick is about to pull himself out of the car, but Bruce is there immediately, lifting him up out of the vehicle instead.

Dick doesn’t have enough will power to hold back a groan, because, _seriously_? He’s sixteen! With the way everyone had been hauling him around tonight, he felt more like a helpless six year old.

“Bruce! I can walk on my own!” Dick snaps, stubbornly. _God_ , how would anyone take him seriously as being a hero if he kept being treated like a damsel in distress?

“Can you?” Bruce counters, cowl already pulled back and his blue eyes narrowed.

“Well, I guess we’d know if you didn’t insist on carrying me around like—oof!” His face is once more pressed into Bruce’s chest, the man’s arms around him tightly. Dick relaxes into the hold, cherishing the very rare opportunity of _Bruce_ initiating a hug.

Bruce pulls away a moment later, clearing his throat. He looks like he wants to be anywhere but here, or at least be able to pull the cowl back over his head to hide behind.

“What happened?” He asks, voice a little off, but still a demand for a report nonetheless.

The fact that Dick has nearly come close to dying, combined with the blatant reminder of Jason’s death, makes it easy to understand why Bruce’s emotions seem a little haywire this evening.

Dick sighs, begrudgingly allowing Bruce to help him out of the batmobile. “I was on my way up to help you, when a beam fell and trapped my leg. It was too heavy to push off, and my com wasn’t working. I was about to accept my fate, when the beam was lifted up and away. The next thing I knew, I was in the bad guy’s arms and he was racing us up to the roof.” He explains as best as he can, offering a small shrug.

Bruce’s eyes narrow, and Dick can practically _see_ the gears in his head turning.

“He saved my life, Bruce.”

“I know,” Bruce says, turning and heading for the computer. “Alfred, check Dick over, please,” he calls out.

Dick hesitates, but Alfred is already moving towards him. “You heard the man, Master Dick. Come now, let’s make sure everything is all right with you.”

He can walk fine, but it still hurts. Unsurprisingly his leg is pretty bruised up, dark blotches of purple surrounded by rings of yellow. Eesh… that one would take a while to heal. Nothing broken, or even fractured, which is a major relief. There’s officially no excuse good enough to keep Robin from continuing to go out on patrol.

“Thanks Alfie,” Dick hums, hopping down gently from the exam table.

“You’re quite welcome, young sir,” Alfred replies, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a small smile. Dick shoots the older man a grin, before heading over to Bruce.

“I would suggest you get to bed,” Alfred calls from behind his retreat. “You _do_ have school to get up for in the morning.”

Dick waves him off. “Yeah, I know. I’ll head up in a few minutes. Promise.”

“Go get some rest.” Bruce orders, as Dick sidles up next to where he is sitting.

“What do we know about this new guy?” Dick asks, ignoring the order for now.

“Not much, _yet_. He’s been pretty good about staying out of sight so far.”

“Hmm. Got a name?” Dick enquires, glancing around at everything Bruce has pulled up on the large screen in front of them.

“He goes by Red Hood.”

Dick snorts, picturing the bright red helmet the man had worn. “Shoulda figured,” he mumbles. Some of these criminals could be so unoriginal.

“All right, enough for tonight. Bed. Now,” Bruce says, actually turning to look at Dick this time.

Dick smiles, shaking his head. “Fine, fine… Goodnight, boss.”

He doesn’t expect a reply, but is pleasantly surprised to hear Bruce mutter back, “Goodnight, Dick.”

***

 

Gotham is unusually quiet, settled under a strange sort of calmness. There’s no call to action, no people in need of saving, seemingly nothing that warrants any of the city’s numerous protectors to be out and patrolling, neither vigilante nor police. Dick is beginning to grow restless. 

It appeared to be like some sort of a miracle, but in reality, the criminals are laying low. There’s a new player in the game, straddling the line of good and bad. _The Red Hood._ Batman considers this new guy more of a villain than hero, but his partner thinks of him as more of an anti-hero. Dick is a tad biased, though. The man _did_ save his life, after all.

“Let’s move,” Red Bird says, standing up smoothly from his crouch at the edge of the building.

Dick blows out a sigh, the action causing the dark strands hanging across his forehead to fan out. “Right, to go scope out even more of the action that’s _not_ happening tonight.”

Red Bird stares at him for a moment, expression unreadable under the mask covering his face.

“You may head home if you’d like, Robin,” The elder vigilante says, turning to look out at the city.

Dick frowns. “It’s not that I want to go home–”

“You’re upset that father asked you to patrol with me instead of him tonight.” It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t necessarily wrong, either.

Dick feels utterly terrible as he watches a small frown tug at Damian’s lips.

“It’s not that I don’t want to patrol with you, Red Bird,” Dick assures him, moving to face him. “I’m just a little mad that he won’t let me help with this Red Hood case.”

Damian hums softly, frown turning into a small smile instead. “I understand your frustrations, but you _did_ almost get blown up the last time you met with the Red Hood.”

“He saved me!” Dick defends, the words flying from his mouth.

Damian simply looks _amused,_ of all things. “Perhaps that is why Father won’t allow you to go along with him.”

Dick frowns, confused. “Why do you say that?”

Damian shrugs his broad shoulders. “Maybe he doesn’t think you will do what is necessary the next time you and this Red Hood face off.”

“What!?” Dick exclaims, throwing his gloved hands up in the air, completely exasperated. “Did he say that!?”

“No!” Damian says hurriedly, sensing his younger brother’s mood shift. “I was just offering it up _as a possibility_. Father did not actually say anything like that, to me, at least. I honestly have no idea why he wanted you to patrol with me tonight.”

Dick let’s out a sigh, his shoulders slumping. “B has been acting… weird. Not just about patrol.”

“What do you mean by ‘weird’?”

“He’s hiding something. I think he _knows_ something.”

“Tt,” Damian scoffs, crossing his arms. “That’s not weird behavior for father. He always has something to hide from us.”

“But it’s different this time!” Dick insists, completely frustrated. “I don’t think it’s just over a case. He’s sulkier than normal.”

Damian clamps a hand down onto Dick’s shoulder, gripping tightly. “I’m sure it’s nothing. You’re probably reading too much into.”

Dick shrugs him off because _no_.

“I think he knows who Red Hood is.”

***

Red, Dick is seeing _red_. He is livid, absolutely _sick_ of Bruce brushing him off to the side, of Bruce _not trusting him_.

“We’re supposed to be partners!” Dick shouts, hands balling up into tight fists at his sides. His voice echoes throughout the cave, disturbing a few of its resident bats.

“We _are_!” Bruce growls back, before yanking his cowl over his head. “But this is a case I need to work on by myself.”

That’s not good enough anymore. “Why?” Dick demands, moving to block Bruce’s path to the batmobile.

“Dick, I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Then don’t! Let me help you!”

Bruce sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. The action only further aggravating Dick.

“I want you staying in tonight.”

“But–”

“No buts! You’re staying in, and that’s an order!” _Batman_ growls, leaving no room for argument.

Dick’s fists tighten, knuckles going white. His nostrils flare as Bruce pushes past him, to the batmobile. He doesn’t move until the car is but a distant noise, as it exits the cave.

_Screw Batman’s orders._ Dick thinks as he grabs his costume, and hastily yanks it on before hoping onto his bike and taking off.

***

The flash of vibrant colors, contrasted against the dark of the night, is a bit of a surprise. As is the slight stab of pain that the sight of the familiar costume brings to Jason’s chest.

He hasn’t seen Robin since the night he’d saved him from a fiery death. He _thought_ Batman benched him, but apparently not. _How frustrating._

The last thing Jason wants is for Dick to be getting caught in the middle of this. While he isn’t too thrilled about the Robin mantle being passed down, _about being replaced_ , he can’t help the pang of dread that hits every time he thinks of Dick following a little too closely in his own footsteps.

The kid _is_ alone, though, with the Bat nowhere to be seen. An unusual occurrence, but not all that surprising.

In an instant, Jason’s plans for the evening change.

***

_Not good not good not good not good…Stop!_

The situation isn’t ideal, but now was not the time to panic. If Dick is going to get out of here, _wherever here is_ , he needs to remain calm and come up with a plan.

He takes a moment to look at his surroundings while he controls his breathing. He looks to be in an ordinary apartment. Clean, normal, _boring_. It doesn’t look or feel lived in. Too neat, no sign of any personal items. No pictures on the plain white walls, hardly any décor, and the little that was present looked staged, like it came with the apartment. Same with the stiff looking furniture.

He could be anywhere, but still in Gotham, he know from the familiar sounds of traffic and never ending sirens ringing through the night air.

“Morning, sunshine!”

Dick snaps his neck around to face the cause of the overly-cheery voice. When he comes face to face with a bright red helmet, he is hit with the memory of how he ended up in this predicament.

Right. He’d gone out, _against Bruce’s orders_ , and had a run in with none other than the Red Hood. One that, apparently, didn’t turn out too well for him.

_And_ , to make matters worse, he may have stubbornly torn the tracker out from his suit before leaving the cave…

If the Red Hood didn’t end up killing him, Batman surely would.

“Relax, kid. I’m not going to hurt you,” Hood says as he drags a chair up to place it across from where Dick is tied down.

Dick snorts. “Right, that’s why you have me held captive.”

“It’s for your own good.”

Was this guy for real?

“Please, explain the logic of that one to me,” Dick snaps, tugging at his binds. Zip ties. Awesome. A pain in the ass, but not impossible.

“I have some unfinished business with Batman. I don’t need you getting in the way of that,” The Red Hood says, rocking back onto only two chair legs.

“None of that makes any sense,” Dick states, because really, it doesn’t. This guy hasn’t been in the game long enough to have ‘unfinished business’ with Batman.

“Then don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it?” Dick asks, incredulously. “You’ve got me zipped tied to a chair, while you talk about some ominous sounding unfinished business that you’ve apparently got with my partner. Sorry buddy, but I’ve got every reason to worry.”

The man gives a dark chuckle, and _dammit_ that helmet is really annoying. The guy is covered from head to toe, which makes reading him nearly impossible. Facial expressions can give a lot away, and this guy must not have much of a poker face, because he hides it all behind that damn mask.

“What’s so funny? I’m all about jokes and puns, and it’s always nice to share.” This guy might be unlike the villains Dick was used to dealing with, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from getting mouthy, or chatty.

The dark chuckle morphed into a lighter one, like he thought Dick was genuinely funny. And Dick, he was surprised by the sound. A warmth settled over his chest, as he quickly realized how much he liked the sound. Strange, but it was somewhat familiar too…

The laugh cuts off, as the Hood leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows against his knees. “The joke here, kid, is that you seriously think you and the Bat are partners.”

Dick is reeling at the comment, because _what?_

The words were spat out, with pure disgust.

It wasn’t the first time a bad guy tried to get into Dick’s head by making him doubt his value to Batman, but no one had ever sounded so genuine, like they truly believed it to be true.

“You’re nothing but a sidekick, someone he only wants around when he _needs_ you. You’re a pawn, and replaceable.” The words are spoken with venom, as if it were a personal experience.

They strike a chord in Dick, especially after the fight he just had with Bruce earlier. But… no. Bruce is a difficult man to work with at times, they have disagreements, but Dick _knows_ Bruce doesn’t truly believe any of the words this man is spewing.

“What do you want?” Dick demands, ignoring the previous words.

Red Hood stands up from his chair, beginning to pace around the small room. Dick keeps his eyes on him the entire time.

“I want a lot of things, kid. One of them would be for you to quit this little gig. I’m sure you’re a bright, good kid, you’d have to be to have survived so long in this game. But, it’s only a matter of time. You’re in over your head, following orders and fighting crime alongside a man who dresses like a bat. Get out while you still can, before you end up dead.”

He pauses his pacing, before taking a few steps closer to Dick. He crouches down, so that they are eye level. With the helmet in the way, it’s impossible to see the man’s face, but his next words send chills down his spine. “You wouldn’t be the first Robin who did.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It ends tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages are the same as last chapter, picking right up where it left off. 
> 
> Revised as of 01/05/2017

“Hungry?”

Dick’s head snaps up at the sudden, one word question.

“Or…thirsty?” The Hood tries, tilting his helmeted head to the side.

Dick shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re terrible at this,” He says, instead of answering either question.

“Terrible at what, exactly?”

Dick shakes his head again. Wasn’t it _obvious_? “Being the bad guy,” He reiterates, matter-of-factly.

He doesn’t miss the way the Hood’s hands instantly form and tighten into fists.

“Probably because I’m _not_ the bad guy,” He insists, rather gruffly.

“You kill people!” Dick argues, narrowing his (thankfully) still masked eyes.

The accusation proves to be a no-no, as an angry Red Hood is suddenly in Dick’s face, shoving him back against the chair with a mean grip on the shoulder. The man smells like worn leather and cigarette smoke, an interesting combination.

“I kill _criminals_! They aren’t people, they’re the scum of the earth. _Monsters!”_

Dick shakes his head stubbornly, refusing to back down. “It doesn’t matter what they are. You can’t take the law into your own hands like that!”

The grip on his shoulder tightens, forcing a wince out of him.

“The way that the Bat has you doing it, it’s all pointless. You capture these psychotic freaks and throw them into jail, only for them to escape the very next week. It’s a never ending, vicious cycle,” Red Hood growls out. “When is enough, _enough_? You call me a murderer, but what I do brings results. I’m cleaning up Gotham effectively.”

“It isn’t _right_ ,” Dick grounds out.

“You only think that because of Batman’s brainwashing,” The Hood pauses, his grip on Dick’s shoulder loosening, before the hand pulls away completely, as he backs off. He begins to pace, as he continues. “I bet you’ve thought about it, about my brand of justice. There has to have been a time when you _knew_ that a jail sentence wasn’t enough. That a criminal, a _real_ murderer, deserved a much worse punishment.”

Undeniably, the words instantly make Dick think of his parents, and their murderer, Tony Zucco.

“W-what makes you say that?” he asks, a bit shakily. He swallows thickly, trying not to lose his nerve on this. That was forever ago, even felt like a lifetime ago. He’s learned so much since then.

The Hood pauses his pacing, shrugging his shoulders almost casually. “An assumption, I guess. I just figure there _has_ to be a reason that you parade around in tights every night to fight bad guys.”

Dick looks down, staring at his lap. “Maybe I just want to help people.”

A gloved hand grabs his chin then, forcing it back up, a red helmet blocking his line of view.

“Your _help_ is only temporary,” The Hood snaps.

“Wha d y wan frm me?” Dick asks, the words slurred around the hand squeezing at his face.

The hand falls, and the Hood pulls back, just slightly. “Join me.”

Dick’s eyes widen at _that_ statement. “You’re crazy.” He breathes.

“Am I?” He asks, with a dark chuckle.

“You definitely are.” Dick affirms. “One minute you’re begging me to quit vigilantism all together, and the next you’re asking me to join you? Kinda hypocritical, pal.”

“One day you’ll figure it out,” Hood says, sounding so sure of himself that it sends chills running down Dick’s spine. “Besides,” the man adds. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

***

Dick has been captive for _at least_ two days. He isn’t sure on exactly how long, because he doesn’t know how long he’s been unconscious after his kidnapping. He tried escaping multiple times, but the Red Hood is _good_. He seems to really know his stuff. The time when he tipped the chair over, hoping to break it, he was righted almost immediately, and then received a stern talking to about staying safe. Which was… _unusual_ , to say the least. His captors didn’t usually scold him on safety. Typically they would be too busy torturing him.

Eventually, when his hunger turned painful, he’d given in to the Hood’s offer of food and water. He’d even dozed off a few times. His limbs had gone pretty much numb from lack of movement though, making any possibility of escape ten times harder.

From what he’s experienced, he doesn’t really have anything to fear from the man. He’s pretty much left Dick alone, occasionally giving in to Dick’s need for conversation. There was no violence, no torture, and no interrogation. _Nothing_.

Waiting around for something, _anything_ to happen is the worst. Dick is bored out of his mind, unable to even find entertainment by watching his captor. The man is quiet, and doesn’t really do much. Or at least, it doesn’t _look_ like he does much. He _is_ planning for something, Dick is certain.

The man isn’t always in Dick’s line of sight either. He is constantly in and out of rooms, and he takes all of his phone calls elsewhere. No matter how much he strains to hear, even going as far as holding his breath, Dick can never pick up on any of the conversations carried behind closed doors.

He wonders if Bruce is looking for him, if he’s asked Tim and Damian for help. What if he thinks Dick had just run off, with the intent of never coming back? What if… what if he doesn’t _care_?

Dick instantly pushes those negative thoughts away, chalking them up to spending too much time around the elusive Red Hood. The man has a habit of trying to make Dick doubt his mentor. He’s pretty passionate about it too. Passionate about a lot of things.

As each second passes in the man’s presence, Dick begins to feel a certain familiarity with him. There’s something recognizable about the man, and Dick swears he knows him from somewhere.

***

Jason chuckles upon entering the room where he is keeping Dick, who’d passed out once again. Couldn’t blame the kid, there isn’t much to do in such an unescapable position.

The sight of the sleeping _Boy Wonder_ brings on a strange surge of relief through Jason. The fact that Dick feels safe enough in Jason’s presence to let himself doze off, makes the older man feel oddly pleased.

Bruce brainwashed the kid enough with the no kill rule that Jason _knows_ Dick will hate him when his identity is revealed. It sucks, but he knows it’s the truth, especially after Dick tried to convince him he was in the wrong. No matter how much Jason pushes, Dick is too stubborn to see things clearly, to look past the Batman’s teachings. Despite their differing opinions, Dick Grayson is still a very important person to Jason, and he’s still innocent in this whole mess.

Jason feels only a slight twinge of guilt over kidnapping the teen, but it is heavily outweighed by Jason's need to protect him. After tonight, Dick will be free to go, but until then, he’s safe and sound. Maybe not comfortable, or particularly happy, but there is no risk of him getting caught in the crossfire by being holed up in this little apartment.

No matter the outcome, things would be messy this evening. This is the best way Jason can think of to keep Dick safe.

“Nnnh… n-no.”

Jason turns his attention back to Dick, whose face is scrunched up, lips pinched in a tight frown as he unconsciously begins to strain against his binds.

“NO!” Dick yells, struggling more forcefully, his chair starting to rock back and forth.

Jason is there in an instant, steadying the chair so it won’t fall over. Dick’s breathing is frantic, bordering on hyperventilation.

“Dick,” He says, shaking the boy’s shoulders, trying to rouse him.

“NO! J-Jay! JASON!” He screams, and Jason freezes up, staring at Dick in shock.

“ _Jason_ ,” Dick sobs, thrashing again.

Jason holds his breath… one… two…

He shakes Dick again, “Hey, Dickie _, wake up_!” he urges, voice hoarse.

He feels the younger relax, finally, and his breathing steadies, masked eyes wide.

“You OK?” Jason asks, trying to stay level.

“Y-you… You called me Dick.”

Jason freezes again.

“How? _Who_ are you?” Dick demands, voice ragged from screaming.

Jason stands up and pushes away, turning and heading to the kitchen.

_Fuck._

He grabs a clean glass and flips the tap on, filling the glass up with water. Without a word, he goes right back into the room where Dick is watching him. Ignoring the urge to run away, Jason approaches him, holding out the glass of water as an offer. Dick initially looks wary, but nods his head ‘yes’ after a moment.

Jason holds the glass to Dick’s lips, who begins to drink slowly, pulling away for air every once and awhile, until the glass is empty.

Without another word, Jason leaves the room, headed straight for the bathroom. He shuts the door, pressing his back against it before sliding down until he hits the ground. With shaky hands he sets the glass down, then unhinges his helmet to take it off. He inhales the fresh air slowly, trying to calm his racing heart.

Dick… Dick dreamt about _him_. He had a nightmare, involving _him_.

Jason shivers, afraid to even think of what _else_ the dreams involved.

***

Dick calms after a while, his breaths slowing and evening out to a safer rate, heartbeat steadying.

It’d been a long time since he last dreamt about Jason dying. He wants to be surprised, to wonder what it was that triggered the return of a nightmare that had once constantly plagued his mind, but he knows why.

He’s been trying to deny the thought, but The Red Hood reminds Dick of his late brother.

It’s driven home by the way he woke Dick from the nightmare. The way he gently shook him, only enough pressure to wake him, and not hurt him.

_“Hey, Dickie, wake up!”_

That was Jason’s voice. Maybe a little deeper than he remembered, but that was _definitely_ Jason Todd.

_God._ Jason is alive?

It seems too good to be true, but it certainly explains Bruce’s recent behavior. Dick had a feeling that Bruce knows who the Red Hood is, but he couldn’t think of any person worthy of rattling his mentor as much as he had. Jason though…

_Well_ , Dick supposes, a son returning from the grave as a killer is surely enough to truly perturb Bruce Wayne.

***

It’s nearing sunset by the time Red- _Jason,_ makes his reappearance.

“It all ends tonight,” He announces, striding into the room, confident as ever. Dick isn’t sure exactly what he means, but knows it can’t be anything good. Whatever he’s been planning for, this must be it.

“Kind of cryptic,” Dick mutters tiredly. He’s so sick of all the vagueness, and dammit, he is sick of being trapped. He’s never been one to sit still for long periods of time, and this is excessive. “Does whatever going down tonight entail you letting me go?”

Jason nods, and Dick aches to yank the red helmet off his head, so that he can finally see his face. “After tonight, you’re free to go.”

Dick nods slowly, a million more questions swimming through his head. He chooses his next words carefully. “Are you going to let me know what excitement I’ll be missing out on tonight, at least?”

Jason pauses, taking a moment to stare Dick down for a moment. Dick stares right back, eyes narrowing just slightly.

Finally, Jason relaxes. “Tonight, I finally get my revenge. One way or another.”

Dick frowns as he mulls the words over. As soon as the loaded statement finally sinks in, it’s like a lightbulb flickers on, and Dick’s eyes widen abject in horror. Revenge can mean a lot of things, none of which are necessarily good in this particular instance.   
Apparently, Jason has stopped paying attention, and misses Dick’s reaction. In fact, he’s left the room entirely.

Dick can still hear him rustling around the apartment, and a few moments later he comes back into Dick’s line of sight.

Jason is dressed in full gear, with guns holstered to his thighs.

Dick watches as the older boy picks from an assortment of weapons lying on the table in front of him. The sight makes Dick’s gut churn unpleasantly.

Dick follows the movements as Jason steps away from the table and towards him.

“I’m heading out now, kid. Before you know it, it’ll all be over and you’ll back on your way,” he says, casually twirling a knife between his fingers.

Dick bites down on his lip, then heaves out a sigh. “Jason,” he says quietly.

The name has its owner tensing up, and grip tightening on the knife in his hand. He recovers quickly, posture relaxing significantly, as he twirls the knife once again.

“Thought you’d have forgotten about me.” The words are forced into sounding casual, but Dick easily picks up on the underlying pain that is laced within them.

“Never,” Dick whispers earnestly, voice cracking as he fights off the sudden urge to cry.

_It’s him. It’s really him._

Jason clears his throat, an unmistakable sign of discomfort, and Dick’s heart aches at the sound. He wants to hug him, to feel him, warm and alive. He wants to tell him how much he’s missed him, but the words won’t let themselves be heard.

“You’re quite the detective yourself, Dickie,” Jason sighs at last.

Dick wants to scream, to demand he untie him _right now_ and to take off that damn helmet.

“When?” Dick asks instead. The question is vague, but Jason seems to understand what he means. _When did you come back?_

“About four years ago.”

Dick’s heart plummets with despair at the information. “How?”

Jason shrugs one shoulder. “Not sure, exactly.”

“Why… why didn’t you come _home_?” Dick demands, voice pained. Jason has been alive for so long… _god_ , he had to have been resurrected not too long after he’d _died_.

“Coming back from the dead to find yourself unavenged and replaced doesn’t exactly make a guy feel welcomed,” Jason says bitingly.

Dick gasps, as another stab of pain is added to his already aching chest. “I didn’t replace you! No one could ever replace you, Jay,” Dick insists, as he wriggles against his binds. He wants to explain everything, to talk about how Bruce was reckless without him. The words won’t form, stuck in his throat, refusing to be said.  

“It’s getting late. I need to get going,” Jason says in reply, turning away.

“Jay,” Dick whispers. “Don’t do this,” he pleads.

His pleas go ignored, as Jason walks away without looking back, even once.

“Jason!” Dick yells, over and over, louder and louder, until he hears the door slam shut. He sighs, head hanging low.

It snaps up only a moment later.

He’s completely alone, and Jason is unlikely to return anytime soon. _No one is here to stop him from any attempts at escape._

He looks around, and spots a lone knife that has been left out on the table Jason’s weapons were laid out on previously.

All sorts of ideas for escape flood Dick’s brain, none of them necessarily easy.

It’s going to be a long night.

***

This isn’t going the way Jason hoped. It hurt, but it isn’t really all that surprising. Bruce is too stubborn, and too stuck in his own ways to kill even the fucking _Joker_.

Jason isn’t sure who he’s more infuriated with, Bruce for not doing this one thing for him, or himself, for believing that Bruce actually cared about him enough to do it in the first place.

He clutches at his bleeding shoulder, ripping the batarang out with a grunt, as the Joker’s manic cackling rings crystal-clear through the air.

A door flies open then, and Jason’s eyes widen because _fuck_. Things are _really_ not going according to plan.

“Robin!” The name rolls off of Batman’s tongue with a mix of worry and relief.

All that Jason can feel is absolute panic.

_The bomb. No no no no! This isn’t supposed to happen!_

The Joker’s laughter grows more psychotic, as he giggles about winning and losing.

Jason ignores it, along with the blood gushing from his shoulder, and pushes himself up and faces Dick. “You need to go!” he grunts.

The Joker’s shrieking peals of laughter are signal enough, and instantly Jason is on the move. He reaches out for his successor, and wraps himself protectively around the smaller boy as the bomb goes off, exploding and sending them all flying in different directions.

***

Dick coughs, choking for air as Bruce helps pull him from underneath the building’s debris.

“Where is he?” Dick croaks, looking around frantically for any sign of Jason.

Bruce shakes his head, wearily, looking ten years older than he should. “Not here.”

Dick’s chest clenches, and Bruce must pick up on his worry, because he quickly adds, “He got away.”

Dick isn’t sure _how_. Jason tackled him, and practically tucked Dick underneath him. How had he not felt him move to get away? Had he blacked out?

“Are you OK?” Bruce asks, gripping his shoulder like a lifeline.

“I… yeah.” Dick sighs. He’s exhausted, sore, and probably could use some medical attention, but…well, Jason Todd is _alive._

That’s all that really matters to Dick at the moment.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason hasn’t just been oblivious of Dick’s feelings, apparently.

Jason Todd is alive, and it’s not _enough_ anymore.

Dick has been furious with Bruce, ever since the building collapsed, and Jason slipped away from their lives once again (thankfully _alive_ this time).

How could Bruce have known that Jason was alive, and kept it from them all? Kept it from _him_?

He’s ignored the man for about a week, until he started itching to patrol again. That lack of trust though, left some lingering tension.

That entire incident was over a year ago. Jason has popped back up a few times, still on the opposite side moral-wise, making everything a mess of complications. It makes Dick’s heart ache, thinking about the man Jason has grown into. He still loves him, despite it, and knows that’s one thing that will ~~probably~~ never change.

It’s a quiet night, with not much going on crime-wise. Batman and Robin are split up, patrolling separate sections of the city. B has managed to stop a robbery at a jewelry store, and the only action Dick has seen tonight is a couple of siblings fight over who got to ride shot-gun.

“Not much action tonight,” Dick points out conversationally, over their com-link.

Batman hums back in agreement, the sound buzzing softly through Dick’s ear. “You can head back if you’d like. I remember Alfred asking if you’d studied for a test tomorrow?” the elder man continues after a moment, tone playfully accusing.

Dick groans. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles. “I’ll head home in a bit.”

This is his last year of high school, and he is anxiously awaiting graduation. Being out every night only to get up early for classes gets old fast. Dick isn’t sure exactly _what_ he plans to do after graduation yet. The obvious choice is college, but that idea doesn’t seem all too appealing. He’s never been the biggest fan of school, too much sitting around for his taste.

Maybe he’ll become a full-time Titan.   
Whatever happens, no decisions need to be made right away, he still has some time.

Dick shoots a line out, with his decision for tonight to head back to the manor and get some rest, at the least. Maybe he’ll do a little more studying. _Maybe_.

He’s about to fly, by swinging out across the mostly emptied streets, but he pauses, when a figure on the next building over catches his attention.

Dick contracts his grapple, purposefully accepting a delay in his plan to go home. He steps back, clicking his com off, then flings himself over and onto the neighboring rooftop. The figure doesn’t turn to face him, and Dick continues on anyway, with the scent of a lit cigarette assaulting his nose the closer he gets.

“That’s not very good for your health, you know,” Dick says smartly, moving down to settle onto the roof’s edge, about a foot and a half away from its other occupant.

Jason chuckles darkly, lightly shaking his unmasked head back and forth in a show of amusement.

Dick stares at the soft curl of white hair that falls over bright green eyes.

“Neither is vigilantism,” is Jason’s retort, as he stubs his cigarette out against the concrete, before flicking it away. It falls down towards the streets below, twirling against the wind.

“Good point,” Dick mutters, pulling his legs up to hug them against his chest.

“What are you doing here, kid?” Jason asks, turning his head to give Dick a pointed look.

“Just checking in with my favorite big bro,” Dick grins, cheekily.

Jason flinches, and _oh_ , that hurts. Dick’s grin instantly dims, and he glances away tightening his arms around his legs.

“You shouldn’t be… Look, kid,” Jason sighs. “You’re better off staying away.” He shifts then, reaching for his helmet.

Dick watches as he moves to get up, brushing invisible dirt off himself after he comes to a stand. Dick’s chest tightens as Jason’s arms raise, about to place the red helmet on his head.

“I miss you,” Dick quickly blurts out. He smacks a gloved hand over his mouth, but finds that he doen’t actually regret letting the words slip free. He thinks that Jason needs to hear them.

Jason stands completely motionless, his arms still held out, helmet in hands. Finally, he narrows his eyes, his mouth pinched into a hard line. Quickly, he slides the helmet down over his head, promptly hiding his face. It was nice to see it while he could, Dick thinks offhandedly.

“I’m not worth it, Dick. Just… forget about me already, will ya?”

Dick wants to speak up, to stop him. No words come, however, and Jason disappears into the night.

***

Bruce is gone, _dead_. No one really knows w _hat_ happened. It just really, really sucks.

_“I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone,” Bruce sighed, looking through files on the computer. Dick was perched atop the desk. In reality, he was getting too big for this kind of stuff, but…_

_“You’ll be fine working alongside Red Bird until I return?”_

_“Of course!” Dick replied, grinning. “Dami and I work great together. We’re like the dynamic duo 2.0!”_

_Bruce’s lips curled up into the tiniest of smirks at that comment._

_“You and I are pretty great too,” Dick relented, playfully nudging the older man in the knee with the tip of his socked foot._

_“Of course,” Bruce hummed, before pushing up from his chair. Dick hopped down from the desk._

_“I can count on you two to protect our city until I return?” Bruce asked seriously, voice softer than usual._

_Dick nodded, confident as ever. He knew Bruce didn’t like being away from Gotham for too long. He also knew though, that he and Damian were perfectly capable of handling things while the Bat was away._

_“Good, then I’m off,” Bruce said with a solemn nod of his head, before making his way towards where the bat plane sat, waiting for him. There he goes, off to go save the world once again alongside the Justice League._

_Dick fought off the urge to hug him, simply choosing to wave goodbye instead._

That was the last time Dick saw him, _talked_ to him.

Looking back on it now, he wishes that he’d given in and hugged the man.

Dick, who is curled up into himself in Bruce’s chair, watches Damian stare at the Batman costume housed in one of the many glass cases.   
Damian has always known that one day he’ll have to follow in his father’s footsteps, and become the next Batman. Dick has always smiled, nodding softly as Damian went on and on about his _right,_ and how it was his _legacy._

There’s a difference in the idea of one day becoming Batman, and then suddenly having the job thrown at you with no heads up. A _huge_ difference.

***

“ _Shit, shit, SHIT!”_

Dick clutches at his side, curling in on himself. Immediately he cries out at the pain the movement causes. He gasps, trying to _breathe._ But it hurts too much _.  
_ A strong pair of hands pull him gently from the ground, one of the hands reaching across his body to move his own hands away from the wound on his side, to press down-

“Ah!” Dick cries, eyes squeezing shut behind his domino, vision blurring from the sharp pain.

“I- I’m so _\- Fuck_!”

“Robin!”

Distantly, Dick can hear the fall of heavy boots slapping hastily against the ground, as Damian runs towards him. Dick can’t find the strength to turn his head away from the bright red helmet in front of him.

“Get a _way_ from him,” Damian growls, and the sound sends shivers down Dick’s back. _He’s sounds so angry._

“And let him bleed out?” the man holding him growls right back, voice hostile.

“S-stop,” Dick whispers, voice hoarse. The smell of blood is pungent in the air, it’s all that Dick can smell, making him feel sick, on top of the pain.

“I will _kill_ you!” Damian snaps, the threat sounding so real, so sincere. Ever the little assassin.

“Worry about that later. Right now, he needs _help_!” The arms around him tighten, and he feels himself being maneuvered.

He’s in Batman’s arms then, very carefully placed there.

“I swear, _Todd._ If you even think about–”

“Take care of him!”

To Dick, everything becomes a blur after that.

***

Jason can’t sleep, or eat, hardly able to think straight. His mind is consumed with guilt and worry. He just… he needs to _know_. Is Dick OK?

He paces around his safe house, waiting for the sun to fall, hoping to head out and catch Red Robin out on patrol, on the off chance that the older man is even in Gotham tonight.

Batman has been on patrol the past few nights, without a brightly colored sidekick by his side. Jason, as Red Hood, has watched his patrols from a distance. Damian may not kill now, but he _has_ killed before. It’d be suicidal of Jason to ignore the older’s threats from their last encounter.

Jason knows he can’t ask Damian about the youngest of the brood, but even if Tim is as pissed, at least he won’t try to strangle Jason to death.

He hadn’t meant to shoot Dick. _God_ , the last thing he ever wants is to hurt the youngest Robin.

Jason’s never been shy about using guns, but he found himself flinching every time he picks one of his up, as the image of Dick bleeding out in his lap flashes through his mind with each touch of cold metal against his hand.

 

Night finally comes, and Jason suits up immediately, purposefully leaving his guns behind. He has other weapons tucked away in his jacket and pant pockets, so he isn’t worried about defending himself. He isn’t really in the right mindsight to fight anyway.

It takes about an hour, but Jason is finally able to locate Red Robin. He’s forever grateful that he _is_ in fact in Gotham tonight. He can’t take another moment of agonizing over Dick’s well-being.

“What do you want?” Tim asks sharply, before turning to face Jason.

Instinctively, Jason’s hands clench into fists. He takes a deep breath, shoving down the urge inside to fight. “Is he OK?” he asks, voice calm.

Tim’s shoulders visibly relax, and he lets out a small sigh. Jason fights back the itch to _demand_ an answer.

_Patience._

Slowly, Tim nods. “He’s fine,” he says at last, before chuckling. “Restless as ever, but he’ll be OK. Not exactly the kind of injury he can bounce back up from right away though,” Tim says, pointedly.

“I didn’t mean to shoot him,” Jason grumbles out defensively, but feels relief knowing that Dick is going to be all right.

“That’s what he said.”

“Huh?” Jason asks, confused.

Tim smiles. “D- Robin. He insisted you didn’t mean to do it.”

“How would he know?” Jason snaps immediately wishing that he could take the overly-defensive question back, but it slipped. _Fuck_.

“Da- _Batman_ asked _that._ You know, he was very intent on going back out and hunting you down that night.”

Jason winces behind his mask, picturing his inevitable doom at an enraged Damian’s hands.

“Robin, bleeding out on the gurney in the cave, begged him not to. Kid has got B wrapped right around his finger. So he stayed by his side instead.”

Warmth spreads across Jason’s chest at the thought of Dick begging for Damian to spare Jason’s life.

“Maybe he shouldn’t have,” Jason mutters, staring out at the city, past Tim’s cowled head.

Tim groans, the sound forcing Jason’s gaze back to him, out of curiosity.

“Dude, you really need to get your head out of your ass.”

“What?!” Jason barks, his still clenched hands tightening. He hadn’t come here looking for a fight, but if Tim really wanted one…

“I’m not sure if you’re really that clueless, or if you’ve been choosing to ignore it,” Tim sighs, shaking his head.

“Clueless about what? Ignored _what_?” Jason demands, annoyance growing with the vagueness. “The hell are you going on about?”

Tim steps closer, and his voice drops to a quiet whisper. “Dick,” he says the name softly. “He’s been in love with you since probably the night he found out _you_ were Robin.”

“ _What?”_

“Oh, don’t do that! Come on Jason! You had to have realized.”

“I- no. You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“I’m not making this up. _God_. It’s so obvious. I think you’re in denial.”

Tim is so flippant about it, as if this isn’t _Dick’s feelings_ that they’re currently discussing. He has to be joking.

“Shut up,” Jason growls, wanting to punch Tim in the face.

“Jay,” Tim sighs. “Dick has had the biggest crush on you since forever. I hate to break it to you, but your so-called _little brother_ has feelings for you that are much stronger than brotherly love.”

Jason’s heart thuds almost painfully in his chest.

“And, Jason?”

He swallows thickly before replying.

“What?”

“You’re kind of slowly killing him.”

He takes off, without another word to or from Tim.

***

Breaking into the manor is terrifyingly easy. He supposes he’ll give them a pass though, as he’s a trained expert on sneaking around, and getting into places he shouldn’t be able to get into.

The room is dark, with the exception of the faint lines of that moonlight filter in from between the spaces of the curtains. From what Jason can see, only small changes have been made since he’s last stepped foot in the room.

Jason pauses, once his eyes land on the quiet, sleeping form in the middle of the large bed. Cautiously, he moves closer, until his legs hit the edge.

Dick doesn’t stir, as his breathing remains even. Watching the steady rise and fall of his chest is oddly soothing. Or maybe not. Dick’s presence always seems to calm Jason down. He hadn’t been oblivious of only Dick’s feelings, apparently. He’s been denying his own.

Slowly, Jason turns and lowers himself down to sit on the bed, only a few inches away from touching Dick. The latter still doesn’t wake, and Jason relaxes a bit more. He doesn’t want to wake him up.

He doesn’t mean for any of it to happen. He didn’t mean to shoot Dick. Didn’t mean to make Dick fall in love with him, however the fuck _that_ happened. Didn’t mean to slowly break Dick’s heart, especially.

_He doesn’t even deserve Dick._

“I’m so sorry,” Jason whispers.

Sorry for everything. Sorry for shooting him, sorry for hurting him, sorry for not coming back the way Dick would’ve wanted.

He reaches over, brushing back the soft dark strands of hair that have fallen in Dick’s face at some point during his slumber.

He’s sorry that he has to go too.

“I love you.” The words are barely a whisper, barely audible to Jason’s own ears.

He scoots forward gently, then leans over to place a kiss against Dick’s temple, letting his lips linger longer than necessary. His skin is warm, and Jason wants nothing more than to pull the sleeping teenager into his arms and hold him.

He ends up doing the exact opposite.

Jason stands from the bed, taking one last moment to stare down at Dick’s peaceful looking face, before he turns and exits through the window he entered through earlier.

With an aching heart, he leaves Gotham altogether that night.

***

Dick’s eyes open slowly after he hears the click of his window reclosing. He doesn’t dare move a muscle for several more minutes.

His temple burns in the spot where lips were pressed.

_“I love you.”_

It sounded too much like a goodbye.

“I love you, too. Jason,” Dick whispers, into the dark nothingness, as his eyes sting with fresh tears.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason leaving was the worst thing he could do to himself, and to Dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna... leave this...here. Is anyone even still interested in this story?
> 
> Haha... I am so sorry this took forever. This was never supposed to be a chapter, what will be chapter 7 was supposed to be chapter 6, but I decided I didn't want a big time jump. Chapter 7 will be up within the next couple of days. I just need to go through and edit it. I hope you enjoy, and I hope it was worth the wait. So sorry again!

Dick must have heard wrong. He’d been half asleep after all.

_“I love you.”_

But even as he tries to deny it, he can still hear perfectly in his mind the way Jason said the words. It still sounded like a goodbye, but there are all types of goodbyes. Sometimes they hurt, but you still know that you will see that person again. Not all goodbyes are permanent, especially a goodbye from Jason Todd.

A knock sounds against Dick’s bedroom door, and it swings open a moment later.

“Good morning Master Dick,” Alfred greets as he walks into the room, a tray of food in hand.

“Morning Alfred,” Dick replies, as he pushes himself into a sitting position. He winces at the pain the movement causes as it pulls on his wound.

“Be careful,” Alfred chides lightly, setting the tray down to help Dick out.

“Thanks,” Dick sighs, eyeing the breakfast brought up to him.

“You are quite welcome young sir,” Alfred says as he straightens. “How are we feeling today?” He places the tray over Dick’s lap.

“Good… better,” Dick says honestly.

“I’m glad to hear. I’m sure you’ll be healed in no time, as long as you continue to rest up.”

“Yeah, I’m counting on it,” Dick agrees with a nod, snagging a slice of toast to munch on.

Alfred excuses himself, leaving Dick alone with the food, and back to his thoughts.

Jason has left him a lot in the past, but he always comes back. Dick is certain this time is no exception.

***

Jason is just about to light a cigarette when a scream rings out through the quiet night air. The sound is high-pitched, and filled with terror. It only lasts a moment, before it’s cut off, but it is all he needs to hear.

Jason shoves the cigarette and lighter in his jacket pocket. He pushes off the wall he’d been leaning against, and moves towards the direction of the scream.

It’s late, with the only sounds filling the small French town coming from the bar down the street, filled with drunk and rowdy patrons.

Jason stops just short of an alleyway between the bar and where he’d previously been resting. He was only looking for a quiet night. After the cigarette he was going to wander over to the little inn he’d booked a room at. Jason’s quiet nights never seem to stay quiet.

In the alley, a young woman struggles to break free from a man. One of his hands covers her mouth, while the other pulls at her wrist. Part of her shirt is torn.

 “Hey!” Jason barks, stepping into the alley.

The man freezes, but doesn’t let go of the woman.

“Reculez!” the man yells.

With a frustrated sigh Jason pulls his gun from the waistband of his jeans. In French, he tells the man to let the woman go, as he points the gun at his head.

The woman lets out a sob, muffled by the man’s hand. He doesn’t let go, and yells something else, his words too slurred to understand.

Jason lowers the gun and shoots the man in the leg, forcing the man to let the woman go. As soon as she’s free, she runs away, past Jason and out of the alley.

The man is on the ground, clutching his leg and howling in pain. Jason aims the gun at the man’s head once again. He’s about to pull the trigger, but stops at the last second.

Images of a bloody Dick laying in his arms, flood his mind. The force of the memories makes him physically step back.

He feels ill.

Jason lowers his arm, and kicks the man in the side once. He then spews out a nasty threat to the man, if he ever thinks of pulling something like that again.

He takes off before anyone decides to investigate all the screaming.

***

It’s been two months, and there has still been no sign of Jason.

Usually two months is nothing to worry about. Except… this time is different.

There’s been no sign of the Red Hood anywhere at all, not a single report, or sighting. The anti-hero has made no known busts, and appears to be completely off the radar.

Dick tells himself that he’s only a little worried. Jason obviously doesn’t want to be found, so of course he would lay low. He would be itching for some action eventually, right?

He’ll make himself known.

***

Jason isn’t normally a big fan of large crowds, but they are easy to get lost in, and if he blends in right, no one will pay him no mind. He’s learned a lot about blending in the past few months.

He’s in a market place in Dubai, dressed casually, with a fake look of curiosity plastered onto his face. He’s going for a tourist type of look.

Jason isn’t sure what he’s looking for. He’s torn between finding trouble, and avoiding it completely.

He stops at a jewelry vendor, and a pair of earrings catch his eye. They’re gold, and dotted with gorgeous little blue stones. He picks one of them up to give it a closer examination.

A thought occurs to him, and he immediately sets the jewelry down, and backs away from the cart. He sinks back into the crowd with ease.

The blue stones reminded him of the color or Dick’s eyes.

***

It has been almost a year.

Dick threw himself into finding Jason a few months ago (He is _not_ obsessed, thank you very much Tim!), and so far, he’s found nothing. Only leads with dead ends. He’s been juggling his duties as Robin and this personal investigation, all for seemingly nothing.

Jason still hasn’t returned, but Bruce is back.

“What are you working on?” Bruce asks, peering over Dick’s shoulder.

“Nothing,” Dick says, shutting his laptop. He didn’t really talk to the other bats about his side-project of finding Jason. After what went down to drive Jason away in the first place, Damian was fiercely against finding the man. Tim knew at first, but he’d started to try and talk Dick out of it.

Bruce gave Dick a curious look, knowing full well that whatever Dick was up to wasn’t ‘nothing’, but turned away and left him alone regardless.

Dick sighs, and slumps back into his chair.

***

Jason is in South Africa, and really, it was a terrible idea to come here. There is loads of trouble to be found.

But he keeps telling himself he isn’t looking for trouble. He’s not sure what exactly he’s looking for, but not trouble.

So instead of looking for trouble, he’s on the beach. It’s a nice beach, not too crowded at the moment. The view is great, and the sun and sand are warm.

He’s soaking it all in, with a worn paperback in his hands.

Dick would be too restless to sit back and relax on a beach.

Jason shakes the thought away, and tries to focus on the book in his hands instead.

There’s a group nearby, conversing in Russian.

Jason should be reading the book, but he finds himself caught up in the conversation instead.

Jason isn’t looking for trouble, but it always seems to find him.

He’ll always welcome a good distraction.

***

Dick is furious. Like, on the verge of a major temper tantrum pissed-off.

He wants to shred all his work to pieces, and set it on fire.

He misses Jason, he really does, but he’s tired. And Jason clearly has no interest in being found.

Dick thought he was close, could _feel_ it, but nothing seems to be adding up anymore. He hopes Jason is okay, and happy out there. Jason has clearly moved on, so maybe Dick should too. And if Jason does decide to come back one day, Dick will welcome him with open arms like he always does.

For now, it’s time for a change.

***

“Grayson?” Damian looks genuinely surprised to find the youngest bat waiting outside his door.

“Hi Damian, I was wondering if I could get your opinion on something,” Dick says, clutching a folder to his chest.

“Yes, of course. Come in,” Damian says, waving Dick in.

Dick heads straight for the kitchen, and hops onto one of the tools in front of the island. Damian follows him over, and sits next to him.

Dick sets the folder down, opens it up, and pulls out some papers. He hands them to Damian.

“What’s this?” Damian asks.

“Costume designs,” Dick says with a grin. “You have a good eye for art and design. So, what do you think about these?”

***

Waiting in an airport is nothing new for Jason. He’s done it too many times to count in his life, with all the traveling he’s done. Especially in the last two years.

There’s something different about this time. He feels different. For the first time he feels a twinge of nervousness in his gut, but aided by a mix of excitement. Part of him wants to sit and wait in this airport forever, while another part yearns to be able to just get on the damn plane already.

It feels like he’s been denying himself this trip for too long, but it’s finally time to go back to Gotham.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunions abound.

Despite his initial intention to disappear, and leave Gotham behind forever, Jason returns home after two years away.

So much for never coming back.

Hell, Jason is surprised he stuck it out for as long as he did.

He’s good at vanishing into the cracks of humanity, where no one will pay him any mind. It’s not quite as easy when remaining in the vigilante business, but Jason made it work.

He’d spent the last two years traveling the world, wandering from place to place, and saving people whenever he could. He had no goal in mind, other than a distraction from what he’d walked away from. Eventually, he came to the realization that he was never going to find one. Once he accepted the reality of it, he made his way back.

So here he is now, swinging across familiar rooftops, in search of what he’d missed the most… well, more like _who_.

A hell of a lot happened while Jason traipsed around the globe, and he wasn’t the least bit surprised by it.

Gotham has remained as filthy and crime ridden as always, despite the best efforts of its protectors. Bruce, as it turns out, is alive and well. It took some time, but during the period of Jason’s absence, the original Batman returned to Gotham and reclaimed his mantle.

Shortly after, a certain little birdie decided it was time to spread his wings and fly solo. A bird Jason’s been looking for since he took off into the night earlier this evening.

When he finally finds him, Jason grins wide, as he quietly lands.

He lets out a low, appreciative whistle in reaction to the young and newly named hero before him.

At the sound, Dick’s head whips around in surprise. Slowly, as recognition sinks in, a huge and toothy grin spreads out across the young man’s face.

And a young _man_ he is indeed.

“Jason?” His name falls from Dick’s lips breathlessly, the sound filled with awe and excitement, with a hint of disbelief.

In the next second, Jason is pulled into a tight hug and _woah_ \- this is not the boy wonder he remembers so fondly. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing either.

Dick is taller, for one thing (thankfully he’s still a few noticeable inches shorter than Jason himself). His jawline has hardened, leaving behind any trace of the remanence of baby fat he’d had in his face the last time Jason saw him. He’s also filled out where he had once been a bit lanky, with taut, lean muscle covering him from his shoulders down to his calves. And _damn_ did the new costume show _that_ off quite nicely.

Dick is dressed in tight-fitted black, covering ever inch of him from the neck down. The sole splash of color on the costume is the shape of what looks a lot like a bird on his chest, spread out across his shoulders, and down his arms, colored in blue. It looks really good on him.

“Hey Dick,” Jason says softly, finally returning the embrace.

Dick pulls back slightly to look him in the face, and Jason _aches_ with the need to tear away the black domino covering his eyes.

“Are you back? Like, back _back?_ ” Dick asks, hope ringing clear in his voice.

Jason pauses, taking a moment to really look at the younger man again. _God_ he’s missed so much these last two years. He can hardly believe this is Dick Grayson standing before him, clinging to him like he’s afraid that Jason will disappear if he lets go.

“Yeah,” he finally answers. “I am.”

Dick sighs, pushing forward to bury his face against Jason’s neck, arms tightening. “Good,” he breathes out, warm breath tickling Jason’s skin.

Jason chuckles, feeling overwhelmingly choked up with emotion. “Did ya miss me?” he asks, aiming to sound lighthearted, but the words come out a bit croaky instead.

“Obviously,” Dick mutters into his collarbone, exasperated. He stays like that for a moment, pressed up against Jason, who relaxes into the touch.

Then Dick is pulling away and-

“Fuck!” Jason groans out, wrapping his arms protectively over his torso where Dick has just thrown his fist into. The blow was well aimed, targeted in a spot covered with armor that offered the least amount of protection.

“ _That_ is for leaving for so long without a word!” Happy, cliché sentimental moment _over_. Dick is pissed. “You worried the hell out of me, Jason! You have no _idea_ how much time I spent trying to find a trace of you. It was like you’d just dropped off of the earth. I thought that–” he cuts the tirade, shoulders slumping, and _dammit_ , Jason feels so much worse.

“Dick…” Jason sighs. “I’m so–”

“No! I don’t want to hear any excuses or apologies, just… just don’t do it again!” Dick shouts, face scrunched up in frustration. Even with the mask covering his eyes, Jason can tell how upset he is.

Jason’s disappearance _hurt_ Dick, and the guilt over that drops into Jason’s gut like a block of concrete. He turns his head away from the younger man, focusing his attention on Gotham’s skyline instead. This feeling is unbearable.

“You sure you really want me sticking around?” Jason asks bitterly, hand clenching into a fist, as his own self-loathing takes center stage. He’s not sure that staying, or even coming back, was the right idea. He doesn’t want to hurt Dick anymore. He doesn’t want to fuck this up again.

Dick shakes his head, entire demeanor softening. He looks at Jason exasperatedly once more. “Of _course_ ,” he insists, sincere as ever. “Just come home Jay, _please._ ”

Jason swallows thickly, internally warring with himself. “Home?” he asks, tentatively. He knows the weighted meaning to that word. No question about it, returning to Dick’s life means returning to the bat-clan.

Dick takes a step closer as he nods.

“I need… more time,” Jason forces the words out, running a gloved hand roughly through his hair. “I can’t go back, not _yet_.”

Dick smiles softly, looking so goddamn understanding that Jason’s heart feels like it wants to jump right out of his chest. He takes both of Jason’s hands into his own and holds them gently, like they’re something delicate.

“Of course. Take all the time you need, Jay. Just promise me you’ll come back?”

“Yeah… I promise.”

The smile Dick gives him in response makes Jason’s heart twist.

Then Dick is backing away, creating a space between them that only grows larger. Almost desperately, Jason wants to grab him and pull him back into his arms, but he remains frozen in place, watching Dick go.

***

Dick keeps his distance, and it’s frustrating as hell.

Jason should be grateful, it’s what he _asked_ for, for fuck’s sake. But, when he said he needed time, he’d meant time to prepare for his inevitable reunion with the rest of the family. That was going to be a complete shit show.

Dick though, Jason didn’t want any more time away from him. He’d missed Dick more than he’d ever vocally admit out loud. The quick little rooftop reunion they had wasn’t enough to make up for two years’ worth of time lost, hell, in reality it’d been even longer than that.

Jason sighs tiredly, as he stares out at the bright lights of the city before him, and tries not to let his thoughts consume him.

He’s dressed casually, in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, as he sits cross-legged on the edge of the roof of his safe house. There’s no mask hiding his face. He’s not Robin, or the Red Hood tonight. Just Jason Todd.

Held loosely between his fingers is a lit cigarette. He doesn’t bring it to his lips, just holds it, letting it burn slowly.

He doesn’t hear the gentle landing from behind him, and doesn’t catch the sound of footfall approaching him. A hand falls onto his shoulder, clasping it. Years of training keep him from jumping out of his skin, but Jason does flinch at the contact.

When he turns to face the figure touching him, he nearly tumbles off the roof.

Batman grabs the collar of his shirt, steadying him.

“What the fuck!” Jason near shouts, scrambling away from the edge of the building, and away from his former mentor.

Batman’s lips curve into a slight smirk. “Sorry,” he says, lacking any sincerity.

“What do you want?” Jason asks, giving the older man a cautious, sideways glance. Batman is unreadable with the cowl covering his face, and Jason has trouble fighting back the awkward and uncomfortable feeling that crawls across his skin.

“Mind if I join you?” Batman asks, in lieu of an actual answer.

Jason considers denying the man his request, as his instincts scream at him to get the hell out of there. “Knock yourself out,” he says instead, lazily gesturing to the empty space beside him. He knows that if he wants Dick Grayson back in his life, it means he has to put in at least some effort in making amends with Bruce.

Quietly, Batman drops down onto the ledge, leaving about a foot of space between them. Jason is grateful for that bit of distance.

“I thought you kicked that bad habit,” Batman says, nodding to the lit cigarette, still held loosely, and slowly burning, between Jason’s fingers.

Jason rolls his eyes. “I’m not addicted,” he mutters, as he stubs the cigarette out. “The scent helps calm my nerves sometimes.” He tosses it away, and watches it fall.

“What are you stressed out about, Jason?”

Jason turns his head around to give his former mentor a steely-eyed glare. “Well, this situation for one thing,” he snaps.

Batman smirks again, and Jason gets the urge to smack it away.

“I’m not here to start a fight,” Batman assures him.

“Then what are you here for?” Jason demands, attempting to hide his nerves behind anger and gruffness.

“I just want to talk.”

Jason thinks what the man really wants is to give him the lecture of a lifetime, but for whatever reason (Dick, the reason is Dick), he’s willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Okay, then talk.”

Batman hesitates for a second, and then reaches up and yanks his cowl down and, woah- Jason was not expecting _that_.

He stares up at Bruce, who looks so much older than he ever remembered the man being. It’s a little startling, if Jason is being honest with himself.

Bruce’s hands drop down to his lap, and he looks down at the city surrounding them, much like Jason had been doing before being interrupted.

“You’re back,” Bruce says.

Jason snorts. “No wonder they call you the world’s greatest detective.”

Bruce ignores the comment. “Damian and Tim told me about what happened while I was gone, before you left.”

Jason knew this conversation was coming. He knew, but it still pained him to think about what happened… what _he_ did.

“Yeah, and what are you going to do, Bruce? Toss me in jail for it? Can’t do that without risking everyone’s secret identity.”

“I still think you should have served time for what you’ve done in the past, for the murders you committed,” Bruce admits, none too gently.

Jason is too tired to argue. He would never get Bruce to see his point of view, there is no point in trying anymore.

“But,” Bruce says, instantly grabbing Jason’s attention. “I think you’ve had a wake-up call.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jason snaps, his eyes narrowed.

“Hurting Dick changed something in you,” Bruce says, matter-of-fact.

“What makes you think that?” Jason asks, fighting to remain calm. Bruce is right, but Jason won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it that easily.

“I know you haven’t killed anyone in over two years, since that night.”

Jason freezes. How the _hell_ does Bruce know?

Knowing full well that he is right, Bruce continues. “Dick was very upset after you left, and didn’t come back. He threw himself into finding you. He’d already started his search before _I_ came back.”

Jason sits there, frozen in silence. He isn’t sure what to say, or where exactly this would go. Bruce seems unbearably calm.

“He almost found you. He was so close,” Bruce said, with the slightest hint of pride.

Jason startles at the revelation. Dick had almost found him? But, he’d been so careful, kept such a low profile…

“You’re wondering how he did it,” Bruce says, sensing Jason’s change of mood. “I don’t think it’s the how you need to worry about. You need to understand how devastated he was by your disappearance.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jason asks, through gritted teeth.

Bruce is quiet for a moment, and Jason feels about ready to explode.

“Dick wasn’t the only one looking for you, Jason,” Bruce says, at last.

Jason still doesn’t know what to say, or how to process what he’s being told.

“I’ll admit, I used Dick’s initial research. He’d been at it so long, and it didn’t help that you were constantly on the move. A fresh pair of eyes was all that was needed to find you though.”

“Ok, so you found me. Obviously, you didn’t do anything about it.” He would have known if Batman was nearby when he’d been away.

“Actually, I did.”

Jason really starts to get frustrated. Why can’t he just spit it out already? There’s a purpose to this conversation, other than making Jason squirm. There must be. He knows Bruce too well for there not to be a reason behind all this. Unless his intention is purely to make Jason uncomfortable, in which case he’s doing an excellent job.

“I sabotaged Dick’s research,” Bruce says.

Jason stares at the man in surprise. “You didn’t want him to find me.”

Bruce nods.

“Why?” Jason demands bitterly. “Were you afraid I was going to hurt him again?”

“I did it for both of you. You needed your space, and Dick was too emotionally invested. It wasn’t healthy. He gave up after, and began to focus on himself again. I don’t know if he knows about what I did.”

“Do you want a thank you?” Jason asks, tone dripping with acid.

Bruce sighs. “I just want you to listen, and understand.”

“Understand what?” Jason growls.

“Jason, you are welcome back in this family, as long as you continue not to kill.”

Jason groans. Is he fucking serious?

“Listen,” Bruce snaps, sounding more like Batman. “You’re welcome, but you need to make a decision about Dick.”

“Excuse me?”

The air thickens with sudden awkwardness. Bruce clears his throat.

“You are both sons to me but… the two of you have always had a unique bond. Regardless of the exact nature of your relationship, you both care about each other a lot. I don’t think that will ever change.”

Jason groans again, this time more painfully. They are having this conversation. Oh god.

“Is this… do we really have to talk about this?” Jason asks.

“Yes,” Bruce says, even though he’s obviously uncomfortable as well. “I don’t want you leading him on. He’s finally in a good place again. I think it would be best if you figure out where you fit in, before you seek him out again.”

Jason sighs. “Hurting him again is the last thing I want to do.”

“Good,” Bruce says, as he moves to stand.

Jason follows. “Is that all?”

Bruce shoots him a crooked smile. “Welcome home, Jason,” he says, before pulling the cowl back over his head.

Jason stands on the roof and watches Batman leave.

That was… better than Jason expected. Awkward as hell, but he survived.

It certainly put a lot into perspective for Jason. He would think on what Bruce said, and consider his advice. But, Jason had already made his decision. It was the same decision that drove him back to Gotham in the first place.


End file.
